Page 115 of The Bratva King

I know I’ve just made a huge mistake. I shouldn’t have let him see me like this. I should have cleaned up first.

“Nikolai.” Kylie moves to stand in front of Luke.

I’m an idiot. “Sorry,” I murmur.

I turn and walk down the hall.

“Are you hurt?” Luke’s voice stops me from behind. He followed me into the hall.

I hesitate. I’ve never lied to him. I’m not about to start now.

“Yes.”

“Bad hurt?”

“No. I’ll be fine.”

He takes a step toward me. Then another. Kylie reaches out like she’s going to stop him, but I shake my head. Let him come.

He stops a few feet away and looks up at me. His eyes move over my face, my arms, my hands. He’s cataloging the damage the way he catalogs everything else.

“You have blood,” he says.

“I know.”

He processes this. “Where’s my mom?”

“At work. She’s safe. I had an accident.”

“Will you be okay?”

“I will.”

He studies my arm. “You need a Band-Aid.”

“Probably.”

He looks at Kylie. “Can I get one?”

She disappears for a moment and comes back with one. Luke carefully presses it over one of the smaller cuts on my arm.

“Better,” he says.

“Better.”

Then he turns to Kylie. “Can I have a snack?”

“Of course.” Relief floods her face. She’s grateful for the redirect. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”

Luke walks past me without looking back. I watch him go. He’s fine. He’s processing, but he’s fine.

I walk upstairs. My legs feel heavier with each step. The adrenaline is wearing off, and everything hurts. My shoulder. My arm. My head, where it bounced off the pavement.

I make it to the bathroom and close the door behind me. I strip, tossing my clothes in the corner.

I turn on the shower as hot as it will go, and step under the spray. I brace my hands against the tile and let my head drop forward.

The ringing in my ears is still there. A constant high-pitched whine that won’t go away. I know from experience that it’ll fade. Give it a few hours. Maybe a day.